


You, me and the whole wide world

by aceofhearts88



Series: Post Civil War Oneshots [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Healing, M/M, Nightmares, Pining, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Smut, travelling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-06-09 14:18:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6910669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceofhearts88/pseuds/aceofhearts88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[ON HIATUS UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE]</p><p>Healing can be hard, mourning what has been lost even more, especially when you’re all the other one has left in the world right now. Sam, Steve, two backpacks, one sketchbook and a camera and the whole wide world to see, feel and taste. Two hearts heal, together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. We have to start from somewhere

**Author's Note:**

> Should be read as a companion to the other oneshots that are already posted in the series.
> 
> but I think you can also enjoy it without knowing what happens around it.
> 
> I've got much more already written and have so much more planned to write, so it would have been too long for a oneshot!

He gasped awake and struggled for a moment to get rid of the images in his head, the belt around his waist suddenly felt too choking, everything was too tight. The collar of the hoodie that felt too strange and too unfamiliar, it was strangling him. He couldn't move and his ears were ringing, and where was he, how had he gotten out of that cell, where had the others gone, what was...

"On your left."

Steve.  
Steve had gotten him out.

And Sam felt his breath returning to his lungs, body bleeding out the tension as he relaxed back into the co-pilot seat of the jet. Steve had gotten them out of the raft and they were on their way to Wakanda now. The hand on his thigh squeezed once, then twice until Steve moved it back to the controls of the jet, he didn't ask him if he was alright, he knew better.

Sam had questions, so many fucking questions. What had happened in Siberia? What had happened with Tony? Why was he so angry now? Where was Bucky? Was he alright? Had someone gotten hurt? And how had they ended up with having a safe spot in Wakanda? His head was rolling with all of it, but he was just so tired, he couldn't voice any of it.

Sam glanced back over his shoulder, watched Wanda sleeping fitfully in the back of the jet, shivering under the blanket Steve had wrapped around her. Clint and Scott were both gone, and Sam could understand, they had family, kids to be precise, and he couldn't even blame Clint for the go he had at Steve before leaving. And neither of them had thought seeing him again would come any time soon.

God, when had this gone wrong. When had they turned against everything they had believed in...

"Sam, come back to me." Steve quietly pleaded from the seat right next to him and Sam turned back to look at him. Tired. Exhausted.   
"Steve, what happened? What happened in Russia?" He asked despite knowing that whatever possible answer there could be, he wouldn't be able to process it. He was so tired. Everything hurt.

Steve smiled, but it was a sad one, one that didn't reach his eyes, and he reached out with one hand again, this time curling it around Sam's own one, squeezing hard. It was grounding, helped him in convincing himself that he really was out, but it was also heartbreaking. Something had gone wrong.

"I will tell you. I promise you, Sam, I will explain everything to you, after you got rest, a shower, good food, but most of all rest. Now, lean back, we'll be there soon."

\--

"You'll watch out for him, won't you? Take care of him?" Bucky asked and Sam blinked at him for a moment for that strange tone in his voice, that understanding look in those haunted blue eyes. They were standing outside the room that housed the cryo chamber since yesterday, and in a few minutes, Bucky would be frozen again, by his own choice, his own free will, until a solution had been found for the triggers in his head.

Until he could be truly free again.

"You know..." The realization of what Bucky meant with the questions that had been worded more like a statement, and Sam felt his heart start to beat up a storm.  
"I've been trained to see everything, Wilson. I've known right from the first look. Take care of him, please, and don't run from yourself anymore." Bucky continued and they shook hands.  
"This isn't goodbye for good, Bucky." Sam pointed out when they let go again, trying a smile but failing, he was tired, the man in front of him was as well, neither had of them had the energy left to fake anything.

"It could be." Bucky said, but Sam could see how terrified he was of that outcome, and he shook it off quickly, using a real small smile this time.  
"I'm not gonna think like that. We'll see each other again." He promised and Bucky snorted, eyes flickering shortly over to the blond man standing at the far other side of the room they were standing outside of.

"With you as his boyfriend?" He wanted to know and Sam rolled his eyes, his heart betraying him by skipping a beat at the thought, Bucky gave a ghost of a smirk, freaking super soldier with their freaking super hearing.  
"Maybe." He answered and Bucky nodded.

"I'll be looking forward to that then. Take care, Sam."

They clasped hands one more time before Bucky walked into the room and over to sit on the table, letting the doctor administer the sedative that would help him sleep softer. Sam sent a short look over to Steve standing by the windows, staring out over the breathtaking view, jaw set, radiating nerves all over the place, but he let him be, knew that this moment Steve needed alone with Bucky.

Further down the crisp clean corridor of the medical wing, Sam blinked in surprise when he found T'Challa leaning against the wall across from the door that slid close behind Sam.  
"Your Highness, I didn't expect to see you here." He addressed the king, because silence had always freaked him out, especially in hospitals, silence meant people were mourning something, and they weren't losing Bucky today.

It was just temporarily.

"I wanted to assure myself that everything was running as it should." T'Challa answered him, those eyes looking up and piercing right through whatever thick skin Sam had thought to have laid on, "You're worried on what this will do to Mister Rogers."

Mister Rogers. Mister. No longer Captain. Because the man who had come back from Russia, the man who had broken Sam out of prison was no longer Captain America.

Captain America had died.

Steve had killed him.

"I won't let him lose hope." He replied, "He is not alone in this world and I will make sure he knows that. But..." and Sam braced himself for his next words, "If anything ever happens with Bucky that points south, and not up, whoever makes that call, calls me. Not Steve. The bad news reaches me first, he will hear them from me, and not from someone he barely knows. It's bad enough that someone dared to tell him of Carter's death via text message... I hope it's not too much to ask for."

"No." T'Challa agreed with him, "No, it's not. I will keep it in mind, but just like you, Mister Wilson, I hope it will not come to that." Sam nodded in gratitude and then they watched. How Steve and Bucky hugged, how Bucky stepped into the cryo chamber, how the ice climbed up the glass, how Steve held himself together with a will that Sam didn't even know he had any energy left for.

Then it was done, Bucky slept.

T'Challa stepped into the room and Sam watched how Steve and him exchanged some words at the windows, the doctors left the room, and then T'Challa did as well. Leaving Steve to stand alone at the window front, and Sam took a deep breath before walking over to him, passing by Bucky's frozen face, and god how much it hurt to see that he was now more peaceful looking than at any point in their run together.

He reached Steve and just stood next to him for a moment, watching out over the jungle and the frightening black panther statue with him. After a minute, Steve closed his eyes and then shook, hard.

"Come here." Sam whispered, turning sideways and already letting his arms pull Steve in before the blond was even moving, "He'll come back to you, you know that. I think it's safe to say now that he'll always come back to you, he'll find a way." He said quietly while Steve silently cried into his neck, arms around him like a vice, but Sam welcomed it, "Shh, it's okay, Steve, it's okay."

\--

Sam didn't know what drew him to walk up to the room Steve had been given that night, to knock on the door and then feel like even more crap for waking his friend up after the day he had had. Both of them had had to be honest, it wasn't like he hadn't come to care about Bucky as well. They had tried to distract themselves from seeing their friend got frozen by his own choice by writing down more places they wanted to see, Steve had groaned some more whenever Sam had pushed over another page of the book Tokomi had given him.

But it had also looked like he had enjoyed the distraction, making plans, the thought that he was now free to do almost everything he wanted. As long as they flew under the radar.

Night had come, they had gone to bed and Sam had immediately fallen asleep, which should have really alarmed him to the kind of sleep it would be. The nightmares somehow felt more real now, where he was free, sleeping in a real bed, had him screaming himself awake from seeing Riley and Rhodey fall and he wasn't fast enough to save either of them.

It was like I was there just to watch.

He had struggled then, shaken so hard and terrible that a shower had been no option at all and the silence in the guest room of the royal palace had nearly had him screaming again. It wasn't like the Raft had been any different, so much silence and darkness most of the time, but he hadn't been so alone there. Clint had immediately started to talk him out of his panic attacks or the nightmare in the night, sharing some embarassing story about Natasha that she would surely skin him for. And it hadn't been his voice or the story that had pulled Sam from being caught inside his head, just the fact that there had been something to focus on.

Something else than the accusing voices in his head.

The palace was quiet though, eerie quiet, and he just couldn't be alone with his thoughts right now, so Steve it had been.

After some shuffling and some quiet steps, the door opened to reveal Steve's sleepy face, blinking more awake the second he caught sight of Sam trembling like an idiot in nothing but a sweat soaked shirt and pants. 

Steve didn't say anything, just held out a hand and waited until Sam grabbed it before pulling him into the room and closing the door again. He led them back over to the bed, nudged Sam to lie down, pulled the blanket over him and then walked around to the other side to lie down himself again. He switched off the lights and Sam tensed when the darkness washed over him again, but Steve wrapped a warm and grounding hand around his under the covers and squeezed.

"I'm so sorry, I..." Sam tried to explain, but Steve shushed him, rolling onto his side, letting go of Sam's hand but only to wrap an arm around his waist, so much warmth, so much steady strength, Steve's heartbeat against his arm.  
"I'm here, it's okay, you're safe." Steve spoked silently and Sam felt himself relax again, eyes falling shut and his breathing matching itself to Steve's quite on its own.

"Promise me you'll never leave me. Promise me that I will never have to watch you fall." He pleaded in nothing more than a whisper, but Steve heard him perfectly, tightening the arm around his waist.

"I promise."


	2. Laughter makes the heart feel lighter

They landed in Honk-Kong with a jetlag that even Steve felt and despite all plans and promises, they still checked into a B&B right away and slept about 12 hours, crawling out of bed early the next morning to find a place to eat. But then nothing stopped them anymore and they lost themselves in the city.

Three days later, Sam had already half of the first memory card full with pictures and videos and Steve had finally pushed off the lingering hesitation in having fun while Bucky couldn't. And they let loose. 

They partied, they wandered through the sightseeing spots, they tried every piece of local food they came across, they talked through the nights. It felt freeing and set them onto the best path they could have wished for. The path to heal.

There was no Falcon or Captain America on the run. No Sam Wilson and Steve Rogers hiding in the endless space of the world.

It was Sam and Steve travelling together as no ones. Just two friends enjoying freedom and the world together.

\--

After Hong-Kong followed Singapore and Beijing, and every experience became better than the previous one as the shadows of the last weeks seemed to slowly roll of their shoulders. Steve seemed glued to his sketchbook whenever they took a break or were unwinding in the night before sleep. Sam sold the two books he had bought in Hong-Kong, because there was just too much to see and feel and live to waste time reading.

Even the long hours spend on busses and trains, Steve sketched the people around them, Sam made a video diary and captured the glowing smiles on Steve's face. Steve drew little doodles and comics, let Sam be the main character in almost all of them, Sam talked to Tokomi over the burner phone and found potential hotels with her help.

They wrote a travel diary together, a notebook they bought in Hong-Kong, wrote everything down at the end of the day that they found was important, was worth mentioning. They embarassed each other in it, let the other one write the weirdest crazy shit and then got right down to make it even more absurd. 

It was for them just as much as it was for Bucky to see in the future. 

And Sam liked what it did to his heart to see his name written in Steve's handwriting.

\--

It was astonishing really how they rediscovered how well they fit together, how well they clicked together as friends even away from the craziness their lives had been in the last two years, and in Steve's case even more. They discovered just how the other one preferred to sleep, that Steve could wake up Sam better than the other way around, that Steve snored in the night if he was lying on his back, despite how many times he tried to deny it.

Sam grabbed his camera the next night and had proof the following morning, Steve refused to talk to him for an hour before he gave in, apologized and then bought Sam the biggest milkshake he could find. 

Steve discovered just how cranky Sam could become when he was hungry, all three stages, from the muttered beginnings over the whiny middle right down to the grunting noise-only ending. So Steve made sure to always pack more food than they had calculated they would need for the day on the rare occasions that they ended up staying at a hostel or a B&B for a night or two and went out without all of their stuff.

They both felt humbled and so small as they followed their guide through the Forbidden City, watching those centuries old buildings and feeling the glow of history all around them. Sam saw a whole new side of Steve when the blond lived up upon seeing an artwork he recognized from a book he had read when he was still a skinny kid in Brooklyn. How those blue eyes grew wide and came alive as he bubbled with knowledge suddenly as if a lock in his head had been opened. 

Their guide scowled when Steve corrected him on some detail but Sam couldn't feel any happier as he watched his best friend shine and grin.

Sam spent the entire drive up to the Great Wall hiking point unable to sit still or come up with a complete sentence in his bubbling excitement, but then spent the entire hike up complaining non-stop over every single step with a tirade that had Steve laughing within the first fifteen minutes. Sam retaliated by jumping onto Steve's back on the way down and demanding a piggy-back ride for at least one hour.

Steve grunted but his hands had reacted quickly, wrapped under Sam's knees to keep him from sliding right down again, around them some people threw them some stares but Steve could have cared less about it. Some girls giggled and he suspected Sam looked smug as fuck over his sneak attack, Steve just felt real warm on the inside to feel Sam this close.

"Fine." He replied to Sam's request and then smiled when those arms around his neck reached down to pat his chest and Sam rested his chin on the top of his chest. Steve loosened one hand from Sam's knee, blushed a little when Sam had no problem tensing his thighs up to keep from falling down and then grabbed the one backpack they had taken today, "But you'll have to take care of this." He warned and swung it up to Sam who caught it one handed and probably slung it over his back.

"All set." Sam announced and Steve snorted before starting down the stairs, "You'll tell me when you need a break, right, old man? We don't want you to throw out your back." Steve grumbled and pinched Sam in the thigh, earning himself a high pitched squeak that attracted the attention of a group of children mingling around the stairs.

"Just shut the hell up, Sam."

They slept like the dead for ten hours that night, neither of them twitching even once.

\--

In Japan, people made more pictures of them than Sam did with his own camera, but both of them became fascinated with the culture, realized that sushi wasn't really their thing at all and that Steve could sketch cheery blossoms for hours.

Hours.

Real life time existing hours.

Sam would have complained more if he hadn't spent that time dozing in the sun or watching the pictures he had made of Steve tasting sushi for the first time and pulling the best face ever.

\--

In New Zealand, they both fell in love with the nature, bought a tent and a car and toured the entire country from north to south. Took hours of each day hiking aimlessly through the countryside, minds blown by the unbelieving beauty of the ground around them.

Sam had read the Tolkien books as a child and he had loved the mystery of this so magical world that was based on something so real, and now where he was right in the middle of it, he felt giddy with childish excitement. He made pictures and videos, didn't need any time at all to convince Steve to drive up to some places that had been used for the movies.

They had watched them together, once, all three in one night, when their search for Bucky had ended in another dead end and they had both been too tired to move on. They had nested themselves into Sam's living room and had those movies let them carry away into a world where their troubles seemed so far away. That had been the first night they had fallen asleep wrapped around each other, the first night Sam had fallen asleep to Steve's heartbeat under his ear.

It had been its own moment of magic.

Steve hit his head on basically everything in the replica of Hobbiton and Sam spent twenty minutes filming the top of his shoes while he was clutching his stomach in pure hysterical laughter upon Steve's betrayed puppy look at the round entrance door. No one approached them when they came across an American tourist group, not even when Sam asked the youngest of them to take a picture of them together next to Bag End.

They slept at the beach, in the forest, in the mountains. Just the two of them, no one around them for miles, and you couldn't actually appreciate the wonders of a perfect friendship until silence was just as comfortable as laughter or conversation.

Australia was much the same, once again they rented a car and left the cities behind for the beginning, touring around the endless horizons of the outback. Steve freaked out over a kangaroo and Sam was shaking so much with laughter that the video of Steve excitedly jumping up and down like a child was so fucked up you could barely see something.

"Did you see? Did you see it, Sam?" Steve called out and was still jumping up and down, pointing hectily in the direction the kangaroo had taken off to when Steve had cried out in surprise upon laying eyes on it.   
"I did. I saw it, Steve." Sam answered him, still shaking with laughter and trying to catch his breath, leaning back against their car and stabilizing the camera again, "I think I even captured it before you scared it to the other side of the continent." Steve looked a little sheepish then, but quickly broke into a grin away and skipped back over to Sam.

"I saw a real wild kangaroo." He said and Sam had his face and his bright twinkling eyes on camera, shot a picture quickly to keep it even more caught for eternity. And then he grinned and slung an arm around Steve's shoulder.

Needless to say that when some hours later as they were looking for a place to stay for the night, they came across a kangaroo mother with her baby at a small little river, the little one hopping along while its mother drank, Steve went into that kind of freak out mode where he was already to very very still again. Sam watched him more than he watched the animals.

And then the baby kangaroo looked right at them but made no move to scramble back into its mother's sac and Steve grabbed his hand in total glee and for Sam the day was perfect.

\--

Steve and his sketchbooks celebrated an amazing reunion in the beginning weeks of their travels, and he didn't even realize just how much he had been missing it with every part of his heart and soul until he picked up a pencil in Hong-Kong and drew for two hours straight.

Soon enough, books got filled again. The people they encountered in every new place. The sights they visited. The countryside they passed by.

Most of all though, he sketched Sam.

And kept that book hidden from view at all times whenever Sam got curious over what he had been so busy over. None of his drawings left him that shy, that intent to not show the smallest detail unless everything was perfect.

Sam's hands as he focused the camera on something. Sam's smile, in at least two dozen different variations. Sam's eyes, oh his eyes, every shade, every grin, every twinkle. Sam's face, sleeping, smiling, talking excitedly. Sam taking pictures. Sam playing with local kids. Sam sleeping. Sam dozing in the sun. Sam driving their car. Sam laughing, Sam silent and thinking, eyes looking far off into the distance. Sam with his hands thrown up into the air on the Great Wall of China.

Sam with a flower in his hair on the drive to Wellington. 

Sam. Sam. Sam.

\--

"I've got food!" Sam announced as he shouldered his way into their hotel room the day they rested in Sydney before flying to Kuala Lumpur. Steve looked up and hastily pushed the drawing he had been working on back into the sketchbook, if Sam noticed he didn't give it away, "Tokomi called while I was out. She says the postcards are seriously lacking in delivery time but so far it seems everything has reached them, everyone sends their greetings along."

And while he talked he set down the take out bags he had been carrying, Steve felt his hunger flare up when he smelled it. Sam threw himself onto the end of Steve's bed and they unpacked in silence. And Sam only spoke up again when Steve made a grab for the curly fries, "Uhuh, my friend. Don't even think about it, you jerk. I asked if you wanted curly fries, you said no!" Sam called out and pointed the burger in his right hand at him.

Steve pouted, then grinned and took a bite out of it.

Sam gaped for a moment, then took his time setting the food onto the other half of the double bed before he cried out and tackled Steve into the pillows.  
"I'm going to make you regret that!" He growled playfully and shoved both his hands under Steve's open sweatshirt, the blond was too busy laughing to get away, "Eating my food, I can't believe it!" His fingers started working and Steve shrieked under his attack, his hands coming up to try and get Sam off of him but Sam acted quickly and had them pinned beneath his knees.

Five minutes later, Steve was still gasping for breath and more or less a boneless mess on the bed while Sam had made himself comfortable next to him on the bed. Smirking in victory and enjoying the burger Steve had dared to touch, but when Steve smiled loopily at him with his face half mushed into the pillow, he did take pity on him.

He grabbed the other burger and held it up to Steve's mouth until the other one took a bite, and then they chewed and smiled at each other some more.

\--

It wasn't until later when he was under the shower that Sam's brain provided him once more with the image of Steve arched up beneath him to get away from his tickling hands. It almost came over him like a wave of pure heat, had him snap out a hand to catch himself against the wall of the shower while the hot water rained down on his back.

His libido had basically been dead since the Raft. All that closeness he had sought out, all those times they had changed around another in the last weeks, it had never done anything to him. He had been too busy trying to make himself believe that he really was safe, that he was really free and that Steve was right here with him.

That no one had died. That he hadn't lost anyone else forever.

That there was still the chance that one day everything would be okay again and that strangers would be friends again.

But now his head was unable to think of anything else but Steve. How those muscles had shifted beneath his thighs as he had straddled the taller man. How those hands had grabbed his knees and twitched with every movement of Sam's fingers. How the hysterical laughter had stopped at some point and Steve has only gasped, mouth open, eyes closed.

His hands were moving on their own accord while his head stumbled deeper into the fantasy, gave him the impression of warm arms around his waist, how Steve held him so many times already. A strong chest at his back, tickling breath against his neck, soft lips he had never felt ghosting over his skin.

He muffled a groan in his arm when his hand wrapped around his hard cock, hips thrusting into his fist while his mind gave him the wonderful imagination of Steve's voice in his ear.  
"Look at you." That beautiful voice breathed at him, Sam dropped his forehead against the tiles and gave sharper thrusts, "That's it, you know you want it harder. You know you want it to be my hands. Don't hold back, show me what you need, tell me, Sam, tell me."

"You." Sam gasped quietly, thinking so desperately of gentle hands on his skin, of strong thighs pinning him down, of lips trailing kisses down his chest, of hands moving over his back, down to his ass. Thinking of Steve gasping beneath him, head thrown back, thrusting up and into Sam. Thinking of Steve breathlessly chanting his name. 

His movements grew more erratic and he bit his lips hard to keep the loud moans from falling out, the last thing he wanted now was to catch Steve's attention. Soon, soon he would try and be more upfront again about what he was feeling, but not until Steve felt comfortable in his own skin again.

He came in a breathless shout and slumped against the wall for a few moments, letting the shower wash away what had happened. Soon, he told himself again while the blissful feeling of contentment rushed through his veins, soon he would make a move on Steve. No more running.

He finished his shower, got dressed again and brushed his teeth before stepping back into the bedroom where Steve was sleeping already. Body lax, mouth open, peaceful in his slumber. Sam watched him only for a moment before crawling into bed with him and getting comfortable himself, smiling as his eyes fell shut when Steve shifted closer and nosed against his shoulder in his sleep.

He dreamt about a future that night. A future with Steve.

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't ask me when I will update.  
> I'm writing when I can write and when the inspiration and motivation is there.  
> There will be a couple more chapters and I know what should happen when and where and how, and I know how it will end.
> 
> I hope you will all like the journey they will make together.


	3. Things are beginning to change

It wasn't all sunshine and happiness of course. They didn't come out of a war and an actual prison break without consequences, they didn't just move on from seeing friends get hurt, let alone from being the ones who had hurt friends and gotten hurt in the process.

Of course there were nightmares, coming awake screaming in the night, screaming in their sleep and the other one desperately trying to wake them up. They cried, a lot in the beginning, Sam clutched at Steve in the night as if he was the only anchor in a storm, Steve cried silently but no less violent, burying his face in Sam's neck.

There was the guilt, over what they had done, over what they hadn't done, but both of them had long ago learned that what if brought you nowhere. They had made mistakes, everyone had made mistakes and only time could do good on what had happened. There was no instant apology or switch of forgiveness, they both knew that. They talked about it, without any judgement, just talked about what had happened, about what had gone wrong and they worked through the guilt like it was best for them.

Steve wrote letters. Most of which didn't get send. 

He wrote to Rhodey, just like Sam did as well. That one they did send.

He wrote to Natasha, Clint and Laura, in the belief that they were all together, but despite Sam's encouragement, that letter didn't get send. Steve feared that Clint and Laura would never forgive him for what he had done to their family, and Natasha wouldn't accept a written apology anyway.

He wrote to Wanda, but didn't send it because the risk was too big that people could find her like this.

He wrote to Scott Lang, to apologize for having dragged him into a disput that hadn't been his at all, but without knowing where to send it to, he burned it like all the other unsend ones.

And he wrote to Tony most of all. Pages after pages, many of which landed in the fire. Only the first, written in Wakanda still, and the latest one, written on the beach the day after they had left Jakarta, they got send. Sam had seen him cry during his writing sessions, but he had never interfered, he knew all too well how the guilt could eat at you and how getting it out any way you could was the healthiest thing to do, even when it hurt.

It was maybe surprising that they didn't bottle it up, that they looked for an outlet instead of swallowing it all down. For Sam, that had always been his way. For Steve, it had been a new development. 

Sam talked. Not to himself, but to Steve and to his camera, shared his fears and his regrets, talked about what seemed to rip him apart from the inside. He made two video messages that helped in getting that weight off of his shoulders more than anything else, and with Tokomi's help, one he would eternally be grateful for, those messages reached their recipients via the wonders of internet and untracable emails.

One for his mother and sister. Trying to explain. Trying to apologize for the scare and the worry he must have cost them. Trying to promise that one day he would be back.

And one went to Rhodey.

There wasn't much to say about that one. They had been friends, Rhodey had been the sanity Sam had really sought for in the craziness that was the Avengers. They both had erratic best friends they were in love with who had ended up dragging them into the craziness. They had both come from the army, they had understood each other.

And then suddenly they hadn't. Suddenly they had been fighting each other. Suddenly Rhodey had been falling and Sam had been too slow, again. Apologies couldn't change what had happened, and Sam still didn't know just how severe the injuries were, but a start was a start. 

\--

There were times where their thoughts pulled them far away, and they let each other have those moments, only interrupted when it got way too long or when they needed to move on because the timing could have been better.

Sam thought a lot about his family and about Riley. About what they had had, and what Riley would have said to all the shit he had been up to in the recent years, his life surely hadn't been boring since leaving the army behind after Riley's death. He thought about his little nephew, who was surely asking his sister why his uncle wasn't coming around anymore, he would have to make it up to him, and her. He thought about his mother and wondered whether or not she would understand why he had done what he had done.

Steve thought about a lot of people, but despite what he suspected Sam was suspecting about him, he didn't think about Bucky much. Bucky was safe, protected and taken care of, there was no pain for him. Sometimes he thought about Tony, about Rhodey, hoping they were there for each other and being strong for each other. He thought about Wanda, hoped she was doing okay. He thought about Natasha and Clint, thought about the Bartons, hoped they were safe. 

He thought about Steve Rogers, and just who he was, about how much he was relearning of himself, of what he liked and wanted. Only a couple months in, and the choking shadow of Cap over his head, it had all but faded away, so quickly, and so silently. And shouldn't have that been the biggest sign for him needing to get out? He wasn't Captain America anymore and it felt so freeing.

\--

In Indonesia, things began to change for them and more precise, things began to change between them. Their overall pace calmed down, they stopped moving so much. It was as if the restless energy in their body and minds had finally realized that they had time now, so much time, and settled into an even slower way of living.

Sam stopped to let his feelings show between the lines only and became more open with his advances towards Steve, and Steve in turn showed more affection towards him. The signs were clear, nothing false to read into it anymore.

At least Sam thought it was clear.

\--

“We have to go back.” Sam declared in his no-nonsense voice just as Steve had finally relaxed into the sand, blue eyes popped open again and he turned his face to look at the man kneeling on the blanket next to him. He was greeted by the sight of Sam elbow deep in his backpack, half of its content already flung out and onto the beach. They weren't yet drawing the attention of other tourists mingling around on the beach, but Steve wondered how long that would go on with the mess Sam was creating.

Didn't Tokomi say the traditional backpacking breakdown came a little further into the travelling?

“Steve, we have to go back to Wakanda, right now.”

Looked like Sam was trying his best to get that point crossed off early.

“I’m gonna regret this.” Steve mumbled to himself and then asked louder, “Why?” And Sam whirled around, got stuck on the zipper with his sleeve and then hung halfway in and halfway out of his backpack. Eyes wide, hair wild.  
“Because the devious little bastard stole my iPod.” He cried out and Steve blinked at him, “Bucky hid my iPod. Oh my god, Steve, I can’t beliebe this. The bastard gets frozen and the last thing he does IS HIDE MY FUCKING IPOD!” 

And after that outburst, Sam gave a battlecry and went right back to work on turning his backpack inside out, “I can’t live without that music. I fucking hate that bastard, he is the worst ever. Who the fuck volunteers to go back on ice and then goes and fucking hides his buddy’s iPod. Who does that, Steve, who?” Steve snorted and closed his eyes again, relaxing into the warmth of the sun on his skin.

“You should have moved that seat up.”

Sam cried out again, wrestled himself loose from the zipper, pulled off his shirt and then flung himself over Steve's stomach with a hard thump, having Steve groan upon the sudden weight.  
"Entertain me." Sam whined and Steve made a questioning noise, propping himself up just enough to be able to look down at Sam's face, "Your buddy stole my music, now you get to pay for it."

"Me? What did I do? I didn't tell him to steal your iPod." Steve protested and Sam threw up a hand to point at him, nearly catching Steve in the eye with his finger.  
"You are here, he is not. And my momma taught be better than to hold grudges against traumatized POWs for stealing my iPod. You on the other hand are total fair game." Sam made his point and Steve scoffed, shoving the black man off of his body.

"Excuse me? You told me years ago I might have PTSD, my poor fragile mental well-being might not be able to deal with those revenge tactics." Steve complained and Sam rolled until he could look at him again, lips curled into the same thick grin that Steve was sporting.  
"We're in the same boat there, Rogers, don't make me take away your window seat." Sam threatened and then quickly ducked away when Steve reached for the water bottle at his side, "Now, hey, don't do this, Steve, don't you do it." Sam warned and them jumped to his feet when Steve began to smirk.

Steve dropped the water bottle and took chase the second Sam bolted, and despite Sam choosing to weave himself through the mingling and sunbathing flocks of tourists on the beach, Steve still managed to catch up to him. He grabbed Sam, slung him over one shoulder and ignored the wild and filthy curses coming his way as he stomped over to the ocean. Sam went flying when he was thigh deep in the water.

"Oh my god, I take it back." Sam spluttered as he came back up, glaring at Steve like a wet puppy, "Barnes is a fucking angel compared to you, you bastard." And Steve threw his head back and started laughing, unable to see how Sam's face melted into a fond smile for a moment before lips curled into a mischievious grin.

One yelp later, Steve went under.

\--

“Here.” Sam looked up when Steve dangled the bag in front of his face and he snatched it just to stop the movement from making him dizzy. He had been waiting for their order in the little cafe they had found while Steve ran some errands before they figured out where to go next, even if there was probably still enough to discover in Malaysia for the next four months.

“What is this?” He wanted to know and then peaked inside, blinking at the brand new iPod still in its box. Steve smiled all shy and insecure again, a face Sam couldn't look at for long before the urge to kiss those lips consumed his entire being.  
“I kinda brought him into your life, might as well take responsibility for his pranks, but you still started it.” Steve explained and sat down in the chair across the table from him, little alley cafes were the most beautiful places in the world. Sam looked from the iPod to the brightly smiling blond.

“You do know it’s not about the iPod, but more what’s on it, right?” He tried carefully and Steve scoffed at him, pulled out his own from his jacket pocket and threw it into Sam’s direction.  
“Troubleman Soundtrack, someone once said to me that’s all you need.” He grinned and Sam felt his heart nearly burst, “There is an internet cafe down the block, you can get it set up there and then download whatever music you need still.”

Kissing those lips? How about kissing all of that beautiful perfect man.

\--

Sam didn't fall in love with Steve on first sight, not on second, not on third, there wasn't even that one moment for him. No fireworks, no big revealing epithany. Instead, it was a growing process, his heart opening up more and more to the beautiful man that Steve Rogers was.

He had never fallen nor been in love with Captain America.

He had admired the hero, had sensed the strength and the symbolism, had probably geeked out a little over following this man, but he had never loved him.

Sam loved Steve. He had fallen in love with the man behind the shield, in a time where, how he later learned, not even Steve knew anymore just who that guy was. He had fallen in love with the kindness of blue eyes, with this loyal and passionate heart, with a gentle smile and cutting humor. He had fallen in love with a man who had so desperately wanted to be free and happy, who cared about his family and friends with an intensity that was draining at times, but he never gave up on them, even when it was the easier path.

Sam had fallen in love with all of that and more, and maybe that had been the reason why he had seen the man behind the Captain when Steve himself had no longer believed him to exist. Steve had never seen any less on him than what he was able to do, he had always seen an equal and a friend, never a sidekick.

Never just somebody.

Steve hadn't taken his friendship and loyalty for granted, and maybe that had been why it had been so easy to follow him, to get back in the game when he had had a very good reason to get out. There had always been a way out, always the reminder that orders only had to be followed if he agreed with them. 

The moment of realization for him had been a silly one, one that wasn't the least bit romantic or beautiful even. It probably was the stupidest moment his head could have chosen, but it fit. It fit him. It fit them.

"Do you remember the first time we went out to look for Bucky?" Sam asked as they laid out on the beach in Sumatra a few days after leaving Jakarta behind them, enough of city life again for now. The sun was slowly sinking into the ocean in front of them, making room for the moon and the stars, and the beautiful warm air gave them the opportunity to watch another sunset, just the two of them.

Steve smiled where he was lying next to him on the blanket in front of the tent they had taken with them from Australia.  
"We looked into every village in a fifty mile radius around DC." The blond spoke up, his eyes burning with he last light of the setting sun when Sam turned to look at him, "I spent every single minute waiting for you to bail on me, to get pissed at me or bored and go right back to DC. But you never did."

"Because you always gave me a chance to get out, to stop. You left me the choice of not following you, you made it clear that I could leave and go back to DC at any time I wanted to." Sam explained quietly and Steve turned his head until he was looking at him as well, "I wasn't helping Cap, I was helping Steve Rogers." Sam felt the need to point out and Steve got flustered just like he did whenever Sam brought up that he hadn't been following Captain America, "That kid from Brooklyn who was too stupid to back down from a fight, I was following him."

He knew exactly whose words he was using and grinned when Steve stared at him, "I've been following him ever since he snarked at me at five in the morning, and I haven't regretted a single step."  
"Sam..." Steve spoke up very quietly, almost only a whisper, but Sam was quick to shake his head and hold up a finger to shush him.  
"No, Steve. Everything that happened? It's okay. I could have gotten out at any point, but I didn't, because I didn't want to. Because of you. Because of this." And he pressed a hand to Steve's heart, felt with complete inner delight how Steve's chest shuddered once.

Because of you. Because of your big kind heart. Because I love you, Steve Rogers.

Steve smiled, swallowed down the flood of emotions that were visible all over his beautiful face, and then grabbed Sam's hand and held on as they both turned to watch the last of sunshine disappear into the ocean. 

"I will never let you fall." Steve whispered after a moment of silence and Sam squeezed his hand, tight, making sure Steve knew he was right there.

"I know."

\--


	4. I never want to lose you

Their sleeping arrangements during their travels were something psychologists would wet their pants over in joyous excitement over what it meant for their friendship and overall mental state. Sharing not only a room but also a bed was cheaper when it came to hotels and crowding close in tents or even out under the stars was just instinctual to be safer and warmer, but that wasn't the point. 

Sam's parents had, when his father had still been alive, strict and fixed positions in bed, his mother on the right side, his father on the left side. And no one had ever asked, that had just been the way things were meant to be. It had always been a little annoying when Sarah or him had had a nightmare and needed some parental comfort, because the door had been on the right side, but Dad had been easier to wake up, so they had to creep around the room in total darkness to get to him.

Even his sister and her late husband, may god bless him as well, had had their routines, him behind her, her on the side of the door. Sarah had always felt safer and more at ease when she had been the one faced with potential danger first. Sam understood that one too.

Steve and him were very different. They had a routine, just a very confusing and subconscious one.

Whoever felt better slept on the left.

And that seemed to change so many times during a single night sometimes, and they didn't talk about it, they never asked the other one where he wanted to fall asleep tonight. It just happened, completely on instinct, and when Sam realized that at some point during their Indonesia branch of their tour, he nearly swooned over what that meant for their feelings for each other. How deep they cared for each other.

Nightmares were a thing for them, had always been, the war had just heated bad things up again, old memories and new ones, sometimes even mixed together, a toxic combination. But they were never alone to face them now, and despite how loud their demons were, how far away they were or how caught up just past that stage of waking up they remained for hours, three words broke through everything.

Three words stopped screams and fights and images of falling friends. Three words broke through the worst panic attacks and the most terrible nightmares.

“On your left.”

In the beginning, it was Sam who woke up disorientated and in a cold sweat the most, but Steve was always right there at his back, swung an arm around his waist, drew him back against a warm steady chest and whispered “on your left” in his ear and Sam would gasp for breath and know he was safe. Steve slept a long time on his left, arms wrapped around him comfortingly, his breath a steady and strong reminder that Sam was free and safe.

Later, it changed. They switched positions often, always depending on who felt more balanced on the inside when it came to bedtime, Sam was even sure they had the tendency to switch on instinct in the middle of the night when something shifted in their composure, mostly without waking up, but sometimes Sam found himself blinking awake in the middle of crawling over a seemingly peacefully sleeping Steve.

It wasn't weird. It was cute. Surprising but cute.

It never turned awkward, no matter how shy and flustered Steve could get during the day when Sam pushed a strand of hair out of his face or stroked over his arm with a gentle smile. Or in the night when their sleep-climbing episodes woke them both up. 

\--

Sam blinked awake, wondering for a short moment what had ripped him from that beautiful dream he had been having, but then Steve twitched again right next to him, whimpering quietly. Another thing Sam had rediscovered, just how silent Steve could be when he wanted to.

Shifting around in his sleeping bag, Sam wriggled out a hand smoothed it over Steve's wrinkled forehead, “You always worry too much.” He whispered in what had to be the early morning, he could see the sun through the fabric of the tent already but not standing high enough yet that it would have been a good moment to wake Steve up.

So instead he pressed himself as close to Steve's back as he could and then wrapped an arm tight around his waist, nosing gently at the blond man's neck.  
“On your left, Stevie.” He whispered into the twitching man's ear and just like every other time the tension and unease floats out of Steve with a deep exhaling breath and his body became lax. Sam smiled and kissed Steve's temple, let his hand softly stroke over a now calmly breathing chest.

\--

Steve had never been good when it came to flirting or making a move on people, not when it was intended, on accident yeah maybe, but the second his head got involved, he was so bad. Truth was, he cared so much about Sam, he was so fond of him, he had fallen so hard and now he didn't know what to do.

It seemed so easy for Sam. Those smiles, those looks, those gestures. The way he moved, the way he talked. Everything called to Steve. And he wanted to give back, to show Sam how much he was falling in love with him. How much he had fallen in love with him.

Steve wasn't blind, not anymore.

He had realized that Sam was flirting with him, they were basically cuddling every single night since starting this journey. Steve may have been slow on the update, but he wasn't stupid. He just stuttered and got flustered and stumbled over his words and his feet and he wasn't as cool as Sam in flirting, he couldn't be as great as him, as graceful. 

The serum had maybe turned a fighting little spitfire into Captain America, but Steve Rogers was still the same awkward little clumsy kid from Brooklyn.

He hadn't been a monk since coming out of the ice, but he had also not been actively looking for any dates or even something that could turn into a thing, at least not until Sam came along and even then something had always come between them.

Captain America hadn't had time for relationships, let alone for thoughts about a future, about a family, about kids. He hadn't lied when he had told Tony that someone else had come out of the ice, someone who didn't want a white picket fence house with two kids running around and a partner in his arms. Steve had wanted those things but Steve hadn't come out of the ice. He had slept on.

Until a man with gorgeous brown eyes, a heartwarming smile and the kindest of hearts. A man whose lips rolled with sarcasm and who cared but was never shy to speak the truth.

Sam had showed him without even wanting to or knowing about it that Steve had gotten lost in all of Cap's crazy life and Steve had welcomed him with wide open arms. 

And now Steve wanted more. He really wanted Sam but had no clue on how to signal it to him.

Like today.

They had arrived on Sumatra in the early hours of the morning and gave themselves another day of complete lazy rest before hiking up a volcano tomorrow. So they had hit up the beach and Steve had laid down with his sketchbook while Sam had pulled off clothes and walked into the ocean without a single word.

An hour later, Steve had looked up when the two women on their towels next to him had squeaked and he followed their gazes towards the ocean where...Oh holy shit.

Sam was slowly rising out of the ocean, dragged both hands over his face and through his hair, arms flexing in the sun, pearls of water running down his flawless skin, down his chest. Waves breaking against his strong thighs as he walked slowly up the shore, his eyes set on Steve and Steve alone.

Steve's libido made a very enthusiastic return and he had to slam his sketchbook down before anyone could have seen just how happy he was in reaction to that show of muscles and beauty. Sam made his way over to him, grinning all bright and goofy again, as if he was completely unaware of half the beach staring at his ass behind him.

He sat down next to Steve and sighed, all blissfully happy as he laid down on the towel and closed his eyes, soaking up the sun instead of drying himself.   
“You good?” He asked after a moment, turning his head towards Steve and opening one eye to look at him, and Steve got awkwardly aware of how he was still gaping at Sam. He hastily closed his mouth and cleared his throat.

“Yeah...I'm wonderful, good day, wonderful beach, totally fine. Good weather. I'm good.”

\--

The next day they had to get up at the crack of dawn and Steve spend a great part of the way up to the meeting point for the guided tour up the no longer active volcano making sure Sam didn't walk into walls. Their tour group was made up of a young Australian couple on an adventure trip, a French family with a teenage boy and a young girl and a man from England who later told Steve that he was trying to find himself after his divorce.

Steve didn't even think about the possibility of being recognized as he made smalltalk with those people while they waited for their guide and then as they started the hike up the mountain. His hair had grown out a little, he was wearing sunglasses and a scarf against the sharp wind of today, his clothes were not like something Cap had ever worn but Steve felt utterly comfortable in them. 

Sam was way more recognizable, despite the stubble, once he was finally awake and bombarding their guide with questions, making pictures left and right, smiling all goofy and happy and excited. He had always known when to be Falcon and when not, where to draw the line and how to protect himself. Steve wished he had known it, too, all those years ago, maybe then some mistakes wouldn't have happened.

As it turned out the couple had no interest for superheroes and never heard about the Avengers before, the guy from England, George, had only lived for his wife and nothing else in the last years. The French parents did recognize them, but didn't say anything about it, Steve just saw it in their eyes, their son hadn't looked up from his phone once.

It was the little girl, eight years old maybe, who approached Steve during a break about two hours into their hike when he was taking some panorama pictures from the top of the cliff they had stopped on. Sam was laughing with the Australians.  
“Hello.” She said in French and Steve turned to smile down at her, greeting her right back, “Can you take a picture of me, Mister Rogers?”

Of me. Not with me.

Oh how wonderful the difference felt.

“Of course.” He said and set the camera to the side for the moment so that he could crouch down in front of her, she held out her phone and then hesitated, bit her lip and looked up at him, Steve recognized that look quickly, “I think I got it, but if I can't find anything I'll ask you.” She nodded and then skipped over to stand up on a rock, the whole bay, ocean and beach and everything behind her. Steve smiled and took a couple of pictures.

“Thank you!” The girl cried out happily when she clicked through them a moment later, “Can I show you something, Sir?” She then added and he nodded, surprised again. She made some quick slides with her finger over her phone screen and then turned it around again, showing him a picture. Steve felt himself grinning in no time, “I've had Bucky Bear since I was a baby, my Grandpa was a Resistance Fighter. He told he met Sergeant Barnes and Captain America once.”

Captain America. Not you. Cap, not you. Steve could have cried in relief, like puzzle pieces falling together, Steve Rogers was finally alive again.

“He gave me Bucky Bear so it will always protect me. He is safe, right?” She then asked and shyly glanced at him, Steve simply nodded, “That's good. Louis has a Hulk lamp at his bed and some Iron Man shirts, but I asked Maman for a Falcon dress for my birthday this year.” She opened the buttons on her sweater and proudly showed him the gray top of her red dress, Sam's face was drawn onto it all with goggles and bright smile, looking so realistic, Steve was impressed, “The wings are on the back. And I bought all the cool toys that I could find when we last went to Paris. He is my favorite Avenger...was? Doesn't matter, he'll always be my favorite. He is really awesome.”

Steve smiled at her excitement, and didn't miss the careful glances she threw over to Sam now and then, “Well.” He started slowly, briefly looking down again at the picture of the sideboard, filled to the brink with Falcon merchandise and that one Bucky Bear looking a little awed at the propped up Falcon figurine with wings in full swing, “What's your name, honey?”

“Chloé.”

“Wanna go and meet Sam Wilson?” He proposed and her eyes became so round and wide that he had to bite back another grin, she started nodding so quickly that her hair whipped back and forth. He straightened up again, held out a hand and then let her over to Sam who had been watching them for the last minute with some mild interest.

Sam was if possible even more exciting over meeting a fan than she was to meet him, and though he didn't speak French and Chloé's English was very patchy, they talked a lot as they went on. Her parents seemed happy when they got a moment to themselves while their daughter tracked on with Sam and Steve. And when she got a little tired as they closed in on the top of the volcano, Sam offered a piggyback ride that nearly made her faint, Steve made sure to capture some moments on camera.

As he watched Sam carry that little girl then, laughing over something she said, his heart gave a jump, a wild one, a violent one. And out of nowhere he found himself thinking that this could be the future. A child. Sam and a child.

Sam and their child.

\--

On Borneo, they slept out on the beach, and it was such a beautiful night that Steve took a long time looking up into the stars, and found himself thinking about the future. And for the first time, his thoughts didn’t stray off to Bucky again at all, not even for the tiniest amount in a short second, no worry for the moment, not more clawing panic and what ifs in his chest.

Tonight, he thought about Sam. Of a future with Sam.

The man who was deep asleep next to him, face squished into his rolled up jacket, body relaxed, snuffling quietly when the breeze picked up for a second. And Steve didn’t really think when he rolled to the side, the stars in the sky were beautiful, but the one lying right there next to him, he out-shined them all.

He thought about where they could go, where their journey could let them end up in. He thought about a time after the running, about settling down with Sam somewhere. A house with a garden. Of summer nights spend outside on the patio, of dinners made together, of movies watched together. He thought about waking up next to Sam for the rest of his life.

He dared to dream about a life in peace, about a life without a war or violence, without battles or superheroes. He dreamed about a life spent drawing and painting.

About walking down the farmer's market. Hand in hand with Sam. About arguing over dinner preparations and grocery lists. About evenings spent out, walking down a city promenade, dive into the culture, be a part of a community. 

He dreamed about more traveling with Sam at his side. About kissing him on a bridge in Venice. About making love to him with the Eiffel Tower outside the window. About holding him close with the sounds of Rome all around them. 

He wanted it all.

And he wanted it all with Sam.

\--

In India they took a bus from Mumbai into the countryside on their second day in the country, and while Steve hummed the theme song for an old Bond movie to himself and his sketchbook, Sam took pen to the travel diary.

'Steve has taken over my camera today, just wanted to try it he said, and suddenly three hours are over and my card is half filled with those fucking awesome pictures. It's like every kind of art just calls to him on some higher levels. I make a picture of Mumbai and there are at least three people weirdly staring at me, he makes one and it looks like it belongs into National Geographic. I should buy him his own camera. I want mine back but fucking hell I won't miss out on looking through the pictures he takes. Just wait until he gets me in front of the camera, how good will that look then.'

“Are you writing about me making pictures of you again?” Steve's question had Sam quickly close the book and blink at him in sweet innocence.  
“Maybe.” He tried to downplay it but blue eyes glanced at him, lips already curling into a smirk and then Steve set his sketchbook down on his thighs and held out a hand, “What?”  
“Gimme your camera again.” Steve asked and Sam pulled it from the backpack and gave it to him, wondering what was going to happen, “Okay, smile.”

Sam did.

“Okay no, not like that. You're posing, I'm not taking your picture if you're posing.”

Sam scowled, “I'm not posing, this is my face. It's your fault if you can't deal with the awesomeness. I'm a...” But then suddenly Steve was sighing and cupping his face with one broad hand, blue eyes looking right at him, lips opening to talk.  
“I'm really really glad you're here with me, Sam, none of this would feel as amazing without you. You make me very happy.” And Sam felt his face light up, his heart taking control of every inch of his body and soul.

The camera clicked.

Steve took a moment then to look down at the picture, he always only ever took one. One picture and it always turned out fucking perfect, whereas Sam usually spend ten shots on a single moment and sorted through them later to find the best one, but that technique had gotten him lots of funny moments captured on film already. And filming their journey still feel into his hands, that was his job, Steve didn't want anything to do with that, apparently he found it weird talking while not being seen later.

“Here.” Steve said and handed the camera back to him. Sam looked down at the picture on the small display and his breath got stuck in his throat, “It's like I see you.” Steve admitted quietly and shy, and Sam glanced at him for a second before gaping down at the picture again. Him, smiling and glowing, his eyes filled with so much love that there wasn't even a question over what he was feeling for the other man. Framed by sunshine and the beauty of the landscape outside the window.

“I...” He tried to search for words but came up blank, completely blank, Steve reached over and squeezed his knee, once, twice, before picking up his sketchbook again and settling right back into drawing.

“You look like an angel. My angel.”

My angel. My. Mine.

And Sam was left gaping at the blond man who smirked faintly down at his sketchbook.

Fucking smooth, Rogers.

\--

Two weeks later they were back in Mumbai, more or less dead on their feet in their hotel room after having spend almost every waking minute experiencing the country, the people and its culture. They had been invited to dinners, had played with kids, had danced on local festivals and once more eaten way too much food.

Sam rubbed a towel over his hair once before setting it back over the door of the shower and walking back into the bedroom, feet still dragging. Hyped up on joy and laughter but also really tired. He eyed his phone on Tokomi's book on the table in the corner as he made his way towards the double bed.

“Where do we go next?” He asked and let himself fall on the bed beside where Steve was still writing in the travel diary, half a smile on his face that morphed into a true one when he looked down at the other man.  
“I thought...maybe Europe? Lots to see there.” Steve answered him and Sam hummed, rolling upon his side and resting his head on Steve's thigh.

“Lots of memories as well. You think you're ready for that?” Sam pushed on, watching Steve's reaction upside down, of course he wanted to see Europe again, there was so much to see and experience. So many places, countries, cities. But Europe was also full of potential triggers for Steve, and things were so good, they were as close as never before, they were so close to taking that one last step, and Sam didn't want to stray off this path anymore.

Steve set the book to the side and wrapped one of his hands on Sam's where it was resting on Steve's knee, “I won't be alone. And memories don't have necessarily have to be bad, many of them are good ones, and I get to share them with you. It will totally make it worth it.”

And Sam stared up at the blond man, who looked down at him with that gentle smile, who stroked his hand up Sam's arm and then through his hair, all without blushing or ducking away anymore. Open now, more confident about what he wanted, more sure of who he was. Sam smiled brighter and pushed into the gentle touch, eyes falling shut.

He loved him, more and more each day, and now he was starting to think that Steve had realized it, too.

“Shall I start looking for flights then? See whatever European city has the first flight with free seats tomorrow?” He spoke without reopening his eyes, and then waited while Steve remained silent, he could feel eyes on his face, his heart thudding in his chest, his skin becoming so sensitive and overly aware of every brush of careful fingertips. How they brushed through his hair, how they dipped down and so very softly stroked over his ear, down his jaw. How those fingers hesitated briefly before two fingertips stroked over his lips, trembling a little before moving down to his neck, settling in to rest comfortably against his pulse.

“It can wait another day.” Steve whispered and Sam felt goosebumps rising all over his body, his head reminding him that he had only put on shorts before waltzing back into the bedroom and Steve's hands started moving again. Over his shoulder, down to his shoulder-blades, down his spine, to his waist, over his back, to his hip, as if he was trying to learn his body. Sam knew his heart was racing by now, excitement building up in his veins and his head became so very quiet as Steve pushed him off but only to slide down on the bed himself.

Steve laid down and his hands were right back on Sam's skin, touching, feeling, gently stroking and exploring. They didn't need words, Sam just followed what Steve's eyes were telling him. He buried his face in Steve's neck, wrapped both arms around him, just like Steve did in turn, skin against skin, warmth against warmth. Steve hooked a leg around his and pulled him even closer, pushed a nose into his hair and just held onto him.

“I can't promise you that our lives will be easy.” He whispered so close to Sam's ear after a moment of total silence, “But I can promise you that we'll never have to through it alone. Not anymore.”  
Sam smiled into Steve's neck, moving his hand until it could wrap around Steve's again, holding tight, feeling the butterflies in his stomach fly up in pure joy when Steve squeezed back, just before he continued, erasing every last doubts in Sam's heart about how much his feelings may be returned, “I never want to lose you, Sam. I don't want to live this life anymore without you in it.”

“Me neither, Steve, me neither.”

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And off to Europe we are.
> 
> You guys ready?
> 
> Because in Europe two become one.
> 
> Find me on tumblr to talk about SamSteve or T'Chucky or SamBucky or just if you want to talk about something, you'll find me under strike-team-alpha!
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	5. Kiss You in the Pouring Rain

Homesickness was something they were both achingly familiar with.

Steve and Sam, maybe in different strengths and versions, but they both knew how it could come over you from one second to the next, catching you in its icy claws from the inside. To miss home, to miss family and friends, to miss the safety and comfort of familiar routines and walls. 

\--

After Steve had woken up in this new world, this new time, homesickness had been the one thing he had been able to feel until New York and the Chitauri Invasion. Missing Brooklyn the way he remembered it, missing Bucky, missing the Commandos, missing Peggy, even missing the craziness of the war. He had missed having something to do. Having a purpose, a mission.

He had missed home.

The Avengers had filled that hole a little, had given the camaraderie of a team back, at least for a little bit until all of them had gone their own paths again. Gone in the wind like leaves only months after the battle of Manhattan. And then Sam had come along, Sam who had appeared in his life like a blinding ray of sunshine, who had pushed everything inside of Steve upside down from the first second.

And even Bucky coming back from the dead and Hydra not being gone, it all vanished into the background when Sam was around. Sam who felt like hope. Sam who felt like safety and comfort and desire.

During all the craziness with Ultron and Sokovia, Steve had only managed to keep his head upon his shoulders because for once he finally had a reason to fight for. To get back to Sam, to get back to him and try again to built up the courage to talk to him about what he was feeling. And when they moved into the facility and had those few months of life as a new team together, it really had felt like coming home after seventy years.

He missed that now, felt homesick, but only a tiny bit, because he knew by now that it wasn't the base, not the team, not the Avengers, not the fighting what had made it feel like home. It had been Sam.

Sam was home.

\--

Sam felt it more now. Being homesick, finding himself thinking of his Mum and sister and his sister's son so often. How they were doing? If they knew what had really happened? If they knew he was safe now? 

It circled around his head almost every day now and then, even brought him to his knees sometimes, because there was no way to get answers. He couldn't reach out to them, couldn't get in contact, the chances that it would be caught and get them in trouble with the government was too big. Sam couldn't risk it. His mother did not deserve to live in the unknown, but she also did not deserve the bullshit coming her way if people found out her son had been in contact with her.

So he had to wait.

And miss her. 

Miss her smile and her warm hugs. Miss her cooking and her gentle advice. Miss the way she looked at him sometimes as if she was unable to believe he had really grown into the man she was so proud of. 

He missed his sister and her never ending optimism, her strength. And the coffee mug on the kitchen shelf always waiting for him to drop by. He missed her garden and playing with his nephew. Missed seeing that little boy smile and laugh. 

He missed his apartment in DC. He missed the memories he had with Riley there, and those with Steve. He missed New York, he missed Harlem. He missed his friends.

He missed home.

When he had been in the Middle East, it had been just as worse. Back then Riley had swooped in like an anchor, had given him something to hold onto, something to focus on, to find comfort with. They had been friends for so long already, but the military, the para-rescue program, the wars they had been thrown into, those had brought them even closer together. And just like with Steve now, it hadn't been love at first sight with Riley as well for Sam. 

It had grown, just like they had. Until Riley had been home. 

Going home, getting out after losing him had let him experience a whole different kind of homesickness. He had been home, but none of it had felt like home anymore for a long time.

Home had been Harlem, had been his mother's apartment and his sister's house. Home had been childhood memories. Home had been the Potomac Park, remembering long walks with Riley, holding hands and kisses behind trees.

And then things had changed again, he had let his heart live again, let himself fall in love again, and Steve had become home, too.

\--

They returned to Europe on a blissful sunny morning in Rome, dropping their bags off in a hostel before venturing out for food and sights. They're running high on energy after having slept for most of their flights and Sam felt like they might also be just that bit high on excitement when he found himself thinking that the Spanish Steps were quite a lot shorter than he had imagined.

There was something shifting between Steve and him, something very heavy and powerful, something they both welcomed but also apparently didn't know how to proceed with. Sam didn't know just what was going on in Steve's head, he didn't even want to make a guess anymore. He wanted so badly to make that one last step, to complete what they had started already, there wasn't a night anymore where they didn't sleep wrapped around each other.

But that one last step was missing. And Sam was afraid making a move too soon, let alone going right for the kill by kissing Steve might chase him away, and he really didn't want to risk that, so he waited. The touches, the hugs, playing footsies under the table while they sat in the setting sun and ate the most wonderful pasta Sam had ever had. Holding hands even for a brief moment when they walked back to their room.

It honestly felt like they couldn't go for longer than five minutes without having to touch the other one anymore. Usually it was casual, Sam leaning into Steve's back while he took some pictures from the top of the Spanish Steps. Steve wrapping his arms around Sam from behind while he was busy capturing every corner and view inside and outside the Colosseum. Sam hooking his leg around one of Steve's as they took rest in a park and Steve sketched some kids playing with a soccer ball. Steve rolling over and burying his face in Sam's bare stomach one morning as they had forgotten to close the blinds on the windows.

Sometimes though, it became a little more intentional. 

\-- 

When the lights were dimmed or entirely out, it was like everything was allowed. Hands roaming over skin as they lied facing each other in bed at night. Fingers learning each others' bodies, finding every dip and curve and memorizing it, no one ever said a word, didn't need to, they still understood each other perfectly. A hitched breath, a bit off gasp.

Sam knew he would forever remember these moments. How they had grown closer and closer each night until there was just one more step to take.

They left Rome in a small Italian car, Sam had the rising suspicion that Steve had only picked this scrubby little thing because he reminded him fondly of that Beetle they had driven to Germany. Endless hours packed into this strangely comfortable car. 

The funny thing was that it was Sam who got aware of Bucky's absence this time first, it wasn't Steve, it was him. It was him who turned around when Steve snarled at other drivers behind the wheel and found nothing but empty backseats. It was him who grinned when Steve made another “in the forties” comment and waited for the side remark from behind that never came now. Bucky and him hadn't been on the best terms when they had driven these long hours to Germany, but they had grown on each other.

And now, Sam missed him.

Steve noticed, of course he did, like every worry line, every flash of something in his eyes, Steve noticed everything now. He knew Sam's emotions and reactions better by now than Sam sometimes did himself. When they stopped for gas and a chance to stretch their feet a few miles south of Milan, Steve hopped into the shop while Sam took a small walk, enjoying the evening sun.

Not ten minutes later they were on the road again, and Sam kept on wondering why Steve was smiling that little grin of his, humming along to the music from the radio. And it was only as Milan already came into view in the distance that he glanced at the backseat again and caught sight of Steve's gift. He was laughing immediately, reaching for his camera to snap a picture of the cute teddy bear with its left arm wrapped in aluminum foil.

“You are the sweetest person the planet.” He told Steve and then grinned at him when Steve ducked his head and blushed a little.

\--

They made trips into Milan, and then later Turin and Venice, but preferred to stay in the smaller towns and villages, experienced culture without the tourist traps. Just like before, they let the country flow into their blood, let it become a part of this new life of theirs. 

Their dance around each other had turned into a slow waltz by now, closer and closer and closer until all that was left was one small spark to set the fire ablaze. 

But before it got to that, Steve made a decision that would change their lives and their relationship once again. But this time, it was one he had been thinking about for longer now. Out loud and in the privacy of his own head, and he shared it with Sam in the early morning hours on a field of green grass in the middle of a beautiful countryside, right outside a small Italian village.

The name of the village was Azzano and Sam had needed quite a long time to find the familiarity. 

When it clicked finally, the sun had almost set for the night and he had been watching Steve stare out over the field for what felt like hours. He had been standing unmoving at the side of the road since he had gasped at the village sign and parked the car, without saying a single word. 

“Wilson, you're a fucking idiot.” Sam cursed at himself and then got out of the car himself, too late noticing that he was carrying the bear in one arm as he walked over to where Steve had been holding his hand to his chest, standing so still, “This is where the 107th was overrun and taken.” Sam said and Steve nodded, revealing the silver dog tags in his hand. There hadn't been a single day since getting to know him where Sam had not seen those tags hanging around Steve's neck, except for the first three days in the hospital after DC while the doctors had called him critical.

In those days Sam had held them close to his own heart, protected them. 

“I never for a second believed that Bucky had died here. I always knew he was alive, captured but alive. I didn't think with my head anymore, I didn't think at all, I just needed to save him.” Steve let his voice grow in strength, despite the tears sitting in his eyes, Sam raised his free hand and curled it around Steve's and the dog tags, “There is something I want to do, Sam.” He made a questioning sound and Steve took a very deep breath, “I want to bury them.”

It hit Sam with a little shock and he stepped right in front of Steve, prompting him to look at him, and Sam was relieved to see that despite the heavy words, Steve was all there with him. Not caught in the past, not caught inside his head.  
“I've been thinking about it.” He continued, “They are the very last things I have of Cap's. The one thing that remained until now, but I have to let go. I'm not him anymore, I don't want to be. I want to be Steve, I want to know who Steve can be in this world, without Cap overshadowing every decision.”

And Sam could support that decision, but “You don't have to get rid of these to do that. You have that jacket you wore on the Raft with you here, bury that as a symbol. I know what these tags mean to you.” He did, he still had his own sitting in a locked box at his mother's place, on one chain with Riley's. Steve shook his head.  
“The man who turned up on the Raft, the man who got you out. Sam, that was me, that wasn't Cap anymore. Despite everything I had promised myself, despite everything that I had promised Erskine, I changed. I let this new body, these new possibilities consume me, I let Cap consume me. And it all started with this.” He explained and held up the dog tags, “A few years ago, I thought that this was the only thing I had left next to Peggy, the only thing I had from when I was still me. Just a kid from Brooklyn and not Captain America, but now I see that it is wrong.”

He made a pause and then curled his free arm around Sam, drawing him closer, the bear squashed between their sides, “I don't need anything to remind me of who that boy back then was, because I can finally be him again. This is me, but these tags? The man wearing these wasn't Steve Rogers anymore, and I want them to go.”  
“What if nostalgia does call?” Sam wanted to know carefully, making sure Steve had really thought this through, “I can't see us strolling through the Smithsonian anytime soon, and honestly I'm not sure they're gonna keep the Cap exhibit while said man is a wanted criminal.” Steve laughed, leaning his head against Sam's for a moment.

“I don't need the exhibit.” He chuckled, taking his hand away from Sam's waist to pull up his hand that was holding the bear with the crinkly aluminum foil arm, “He'll be back, and until then I have his notebooks waiting for me in a safe place if I ever get hit by nostalgia.”  
“You don't think it's gonna happen?” Sam wondered and Steve's hand wandered to the small of his back again, his thumb gently drawing circles on his shirt.

“I don't know, but I won't wait for it. I want to live, see what this life to offer, experience this world instead of mourning one I can't and don't want to get back to. Being free, being me, being with you, that's the life I want now.” Steve smiled and then looked up as a bird flew past their heads while Sam stared up at him.

Being with you.

Being with you, that's the life I want now.

Being with you.

He was so caught up in his heart beating loudly in his ears and butterflies chasing each other in his stomach that he nearly missed how Steve went on, “But before I can do that, I need to say goodbye. Goodbye to Cap, and burying these dog tags will be the right thing.”  
“Here?” Sam asked and looked around as best as he could without having to step a single inch away from Steve.

“No.” Steve smiled again, “Not here. I'm not the one who has memories buried here, but we will have to make a little detour on our way to Vienna.” Sam shrugged, it wasn't like they were on any schedule.  
“Do you know the way?” He pressed and Steve cocked his head to the side.  
“Roughly.” He answered and Sam snorted, pulling away then and turning back towards their car.

“That settles it then, we're getting a map.” He called out and climbed up the little hill again, Steve huffed and then followed him.  
“I don't need a map. I know the way.” He complained and Sam raised an eyebrow at him over the top of the car before pulling open the driver's side door and getting in, “Hey!” Steve called out and then hurried to get in as well, “If I say I know the way, then I do.” He pointed out and then spluttered when Sam threw the bear in his face before starting the car back up.

“If you say you know the way, we're gonna get horribly lost again. Remember Czechia? If I hadn't woken Bucky up, we would still be searching the German border. We're going to get a map and now put your seatbelt on, I'm not driving before you do.” Sam made clear and Steve stuck his tongue out at him, but still put on his seatbelt and set the bear on his lap.  
“This car doesn't even go fast enough to hurt anyone falling out of it.” He mumbled and Sam snorted again, pulling the car back onto the road.

“I'm not the one who picked the car.”

“Don't start up that conversation again.”

“I never even ended it.”

\--

It took them five hours of hiking through what maybe once was a path but now clearly was no longer one, and most of their time was spent climbing hills and trudging through forests that no man had ever touched in what felt like decades. Sam swore off hiking for the next few months and promised himself to do everything to get Steve onto his side as well.

They talked and Sam was happy that Steve wasn't falling into some kind of tensed depression like state as they came closer and closer to the place that had not only changed his life forever but Bucky's as well, and as it turned out not one of them really for the better in all parts. Of course he asked himself what Steve was thinking about, but he didn't dare ask, some things didn't need to be shared.

If Steve wanted to talk, he would.

“We're here.” Steve called out in the next moment and Sam pushed himself up what was hopefully the last fucking hill. It was, but the view wasn't exactly a rewarding pretty sight.

The ruins were overgrown by nature by now, plants having taking back what was once taken from them, but it was still so easy to see the scorched remains of what had to have been a giant facility once. He knew what the history books said, but standing right there and seeing it, it all made it so much scarier. 

“You okay?” He wanted to know as he came to stand next to Steve, “Much to take in, can't even imagine what it has to feel like for you.”  
“Not as bad as I had feared it would.” Steve confessed and Sam slipped his hand into his, squeezing tight for a moment, “I'm okay. I made peace with what happened here. Maybe we could have stopped what happened to Bucky if he had ever spoken a single word about what Zola had done to him or what changes he could feel in his own body, but I know that he was too scared. And we can't change the past. Bucky is safe, there will be a way to heal him of the trigger words and then he'll be able to heal himself.”

“He won't be alone.” Sam reminded him and Steve nodded, taking a few deep breaths, he reached up and pulled off the chain around his neck, “You want some space?”  
“You wouldn't mind?” Steve asked and Sam shook his head, he knew firsthand that sometimes someone needed to be alone to say goodbye to the person who had been their entire life for so long.

“No, I understand. Just call if you need me.” He said and Steve squeezed his hand in return and then walked off, leaving Sam behind to stare at the creepy looking collapsed buildings for a few minutes. “Oh, what the hell, let's take a look.” He told himself to satisfy the strange kind of morbid curiosity in his veins and climbed down the hill to get towards what looked like an entrance.

\--

After what felt like an hour he made his way back towards where Steve had ventured off to, crept out enough by former Hydra facilities that on a closer look didn't look as untouched as he had thought. Someone had clearly been there not too long ago, sorting through rooms and breaking open cabinets, but leaving absolutely no footsteps. And Sam had been chasing that kind for long enough to identify Bucky's methods by now.

And then walking around and exploring had just felt like intruding into something he wasn't meant to see. But when he rounded another corner on the outside of the facility, he froze upon the not so muffled sobs his ears picked up on.  
“Shit.” He cursed and then started running, falling to his knees at Steve's side within the next few seconds, arms wrapping around the wracking body of the blond man who was kneeling in the dirt.

“I'm here, I'm here.” He mumbled, heart beating frantically in worry and panic, but Steve reached for his hands and held on, leaned back against him, “I'm here, it's okay, it's okay.” Steve cried for minutes still, staring down at the fresh heap of dirt that Sam knew now contained Captain America's dog tags, the last piece Steve had needed to let go, “Do you want to go back to the hotel?” He asked when Steve's tears had dried again, but didn't let go of him at all.

“Yeah.”

They hiked back mostly in silence in the beginning, but with every step they took, it felt like Steve was breathing easier and easier until he stopped halfway down a hill. He grinned, then chuckled and suddenly grabbed Sam and swept him off his feet into a hug, but he overbalanced them and Sam shrieked in alarm when they went tumbling down the hill right into the small little stream at the bottom of it.

Soaking wet, they still couldn't stop laughing once they were lying on the riverbank again.

Cap was dead and buried, but Steve was more alive than ever before.

\--

Steve wouldn't be the only one pushed to a small breakdown in Austria, Sam only chose a little more dramatics for a change. He had been plagued by another bout of homesickness and missing his family, Steve had seen how miserable he had felt for a couple of days already but had been clueless on how to cheer him up when everything he tried seemed to fail.

And now they stood outside of the grocery store around the corner from their hotel in Vienna and were looking at a sudden downpour of epic proportions, storm clouds, thunder and lightning and crashing waterfalls from the sky. And them only dressed in the simplest of shirts and jeans, arms loaded with bags full of groceries for dinner.

“Well then, let's go.” Sam called out in a fake cheery voice that set almost every nerve in Steve's body into worry alarm and then strode off into the rain, Steve followed, eyes set onto Sam's every moment. Like that he didn't catch sight of the slowly ripping bags until it was too late and both of their contents toppled down and fell to the floor all around a freezing Sam.

For a moment, no one moved, Steve didn't dare breathe.

And then Sam screamed.

Loud and up into the sky.

“Why? GODDAMMIT WHY! Why me, why now! Why do you hate me so much, why can't I have one godfucking good thing today! Why do you have to punish me for everything! Why can't I have nice things anymore! I hate this, I fucking hate everything!”

Steve set his bags down on the hood of a nearby car and then walked around Sam, taking both hands to cup Sam's face, brown eyes looked at him. So tired and exhausted.  
“I miss them, Steve, I miss them so much. So fucking much. I don't even know how they are doing!” Sam cried out and Steve let his thumbs wipe away the rain from his cheeks, even though only more followed, “I hate this. I hate everything right now.”

Steve didn't hesitate, it was probably not the best moment, and there certainly could have been better occasions, a better time, better plans, but he kicked it all to hell, because there was one thing he could do to make Sam feel better. There was that one thing they had been dancing around for months now. No, years. One thing he couldn't push to the side to be ignored any longer.

“I hate this fucking weather, I hate the rain, I hate the cold...” Sam rambled on and on, as Steve leaned in, “I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. I hate everything and everyone,” and pressed a soft kiss on Sam's lips, whose eyes zeroed in on him immediately, and he gasped when they broke apart again, “Except you. I really don't hate you.” He admitted, then threw his hands around Steve's neck and crashed their lips back together.

“I don't know how they are doing.” Steve began quietly as they came up for air again, “But I will try everything I can to find out if you want that. We'll find a way to let them know you're okay, we'll even find a way to see them if you want. Anything for you, Sam, anything.” He swore and Sam smiled up at him, Steve pulled his hands down and intertwined their fingers, “No more dancing around each other, I'm sick of it. The only dancing we're gonna do from now on is together.” He set down and Sam nodded, and Steve showered his face with kisses, trying to catch every raindrop and tear.

“Steve.” Sam babbled his name a few more times before Steve stopped kissing him for good, simply leaning down to rest his forehead against Sam's. Their hands clasped together over Sam's heart, “Steve.”  
“I'm here. Not going anywhere without you.” He promised and then smiled, feeling as though his heart, his lungs, his limbs, his whole body and soul had doubled in size again when he caught sight of the dazed look in brown eyes, “I wanted to do that for so long.”

“Me, too.” Sam agreed quietly and then leaned up a little to kiss him again, letting go of Steve's hands, only to wrap his arms back around his neck, pulling him closer and closer. Steve in turn wrapped his arms around Sam's waist and smiled into their kiss.

The romance writers were right. Like two puzzle pieces falling together. Like the sun brightening itself in the sky to shine even better. Two hearts beating like one. 

\--

They returned to their hotel room and packed away their stuff in record time, their heads rather preoccupied with other activities already. Sam tried to distract himself from the picture of Steve all plastered over the double bed, loose limbs, no shirt, just wearing sweatpants, while he was still wearing his wet shirt and had only pulled off his dirty pants once they had been save from the rain.

Of course Steve saw no need for distraction anymore.

“I think part of me wanted to jump your bones right that morning in the park. Right in view of Capitol Hill.” Steve admitted quietly and the water in Sam's mouth went everywhere as he started laughing, head thrown back, eyes closed. Steve grinned and leaned further back against the headboard, slowly spreading his legs a little further still, keeping his arms crossed behind his head, “Seriously, temptation was really high. That ass in those shorts, you were a distraction to public life.”

“That ass, huh?” Sam wanted to know once he had gotten his laughter under control again, pulling off his now definitely ruined shirt and throwing it into the basket with the rest of their laundry.   
“It would have been my duty to prevent car crashes.” Steve answered with a surprising straight face while Sam couldn't stop grinning.  
“Oh, really?” He chuckled, “And how would you have gone about preventing that?” He quipped and remained standing, despite his heart threatening to burst from his chest in anticipation.

It felt like he had been waiting forever.

“Pull you behind the bushes and the trees. Would have slammed you right up against one of them. Or pinned you to the ground. Would have gotten to my knees and sucked you so hard you would have only been able to crawl back home. Bend you over the bench and fucked you so good.” Steve told him as if it was the weather report, Sam licked his lips and felt his blood turn south.  
“Big words, Rogers.” He breathed out, clearing his throat when Steve smirked at him, pulling his arms forward again, his eyes glued to Sam now, moving up and down.

“Couldn't stop thinking about you on my way to the Triskelion. Even on the flight over to the Lemurian Star, it was like my body was unable to steer my thoughts away from you. After the fighting I was so hard, I got myself off twice before confronting Fury.” Steve talked and shifted his hips and Sam swallowed. Hard. Twice. Steve's own arousal was hard to overlook.

“Tell me more.” He begged in a whisper and then swallowed heavily again when Steve reached out a hand towards him.  
“Come closer and I will.” He promised him and Sam slowly moved to his side of the bed, took Steve's hand and let himself be pulled between Steve's leg, gasping quietly when he cuddled closer and his hip brushed over Steve's cock. Steve hooked his arms around his waist and tugged him even closer until Sam could rest his head on his shoulder and ground their hips together lazily, “I kept Natasha back when we returned to base, made small-talk, let her talk up some more possible dates for me. Bit my time until I could be sure Strike had left the showers and the locker room.”

His hands began to stroke over Sam's back and he closed his eyes, let his body melt against Steve's warmth while he listened, “I pulled off the suit and got under the shower.” Steve dropped his voice to a whisper, “And I thought back to the morning I saw you for the very first time. How I felt so drawn to you. And I rubbed myself off, thinking of you, thinking of what I wanted to do to you. Thinking of what I could do to you the next time I saw you. God, I was so hard, Sam.”

Sam groaned when Steve pushed up his hips, pressed his achingly hard cock right up against Sam's own one through the thin barrier of their remaining clothes.   
“I wanted you so much. Wanted to kiss you, wanted to touch you. I came crying out your name and anyone close enough would have known.” Sam shivered and turned his face against Steve's neck while one of Steve's hands slowly stroked over his ass and grabbed a hand full, “And it wasn't enough, not even close. I was hard again so quickly, before I could even turn off the shower. I needed more, I needed you.”

“You got me now.” Sam panted out between breaths and Steve growled, he rolled them until it was Sam on his back on the bed, with Steve hovering over him, watching him with hungry eyes.   
“That I do.” He agreed, his hips pushing down against Sam's, having Sam's mouth fall open with a loud moan, “You think I should go ahead and take what I want?” Lost on words, Sam just nodded his head, eyes set on how Steve licked his lips, “Good.”

He had barely finished speaking that one word before he leaned down and fastened his lips against Sam's skin, burning a path of hot kisses all over his chest, thrusting his hips down against Sam's, his hands coming down to push against one hip and one shoulder, leaving Sam unable to move. And it felt...it felt better than flying...It had been so long since he had been with someone, since it had been more than just his own hand. Sam felt his heart trying to leap from his chest, his body struggling against the hold Steve had on him, trying to push back, trying to ground up to get more friction, trying to get more. Just more.

Steve seemed to understand though, and he switched his thrusts to a grinding press of hips against hips. His mouth, lips and tongue trying to taste every inch of Sam's body while he gasped and floated already. Eyes falling shut.

“Steve...” He wanted to plead but couldn't bring his own lips to form the words, Steve pulled back and smiled down at him, so bright and happy and dazed. So full of want and desire. For him. Just for him, “Steve, I need...”  
“I got you.” Steve shushed him gently and then pulled back and Sam cried out in protest but a firm hand pressed down against the middle of his chest and pushed him back down into the bed, “Stay just like you are.” Steve ordered and Sam let his eyes fly open again, staring up at Steve with panting breaths falling from his open mouth, “Look at you.” Steve smirked, “So wrecked already.”

Sam longed to come up with a comeback but Steve's hands were gently and oh so carefully stroking down his chest and stomach and it was distracting every single brain cell in his head. The sudden switches between rough and butterfly gentle were driving him crazy.  
“And all for me.” Steve went on, “Hold onto the headboard, can you do that for me?” Sam felt his hands moving before he even managed to nod, fingers curling around the metal and holding on, Steve smiled so prettily at him, “Thank you. I'm gonna take care of you, Sam.”

“Steve...”

Steve hushed him softly and then his hands grabbed the waistband of Sam's shorts and started pulling. He moved down with it, until he was kneeling at the foot of the bed and could throw the shorts off to the side, leaving Sam bare before him. Arms pulled up over his head, hands grasping the metal like an anchor to keep himself from drowning in Steve's eyes.

“Steve...”

“Soon.” Steve assured him, and then began to kiss the side of his right foot, moving higher and higher, letting his hands touch and stroke what his mouth couldn't cover on his way up. Sam tried to watch him, but couldn't, sensation too much, so he closed his eyes and doubled the strength his grip had on the metal bar of the headboard. Steve reached his inner thigh and bit lightly, Sam felt all breath leave him in one loud gasp that turned into a moan when Steve's hands gently began to push apart his legs.

“We should set condoms and lube on the next grocery list.” Steve chuckled against his thigh and Sam's body twitched with a shudder than ran from his neck to his toes as his head assaulted him with too many images at once. Images of what could be. Steve chuckled again, “Keep thinking about it.” He commanded him almost and he must have moved again because in the next second there were lips surrounding the head of his cock, sucking on it, and Sam lost the ability to think about anything but Steve's mouth.

“Fuck, Steve, fuck...” He panted and keened, and Steve hummed around his cock as he took more of him inside his mouth, surrounded him with heat and pressed his tongue to the underside of his cock, licked up a stripe almost to the head. His hands kneading at his hips, urging him to thrust and Sam pushed up his hips, seeing white for a second when his cock hit the back of Steve's throat and Steve just swallowed around him.

“Steve!”

The blond pulled back and then let his hands thrust Sam's hips forward again so that his cock slid right back into his mouth and almost down his throat.. And Sam trashed his head from side to side, his lips lost to frantic calls of Steve's name as the edge crept up on him so deliciously slow. He had no idea how much time passed until it swept him up like a monster wave, pulling him under and into zero gravity.

\--

When his mind let him drift back into his surroundings he found himself curled up around Steve's now equally naked body under the pulled up blanket, his head resting right over Steve's calmly beating heart. Arms wrapped around each other, and instead of using words, he squeezed the shoulder under his left hand. 

“Hey there.” Steve told him quietly, his hand continuing to stroke so tenderly over Sam's hip, “I was starting to worry I was too rough. You were gone quite a while.” Sam nuzzled at his chest in response, still not sure he had words that could describe what he was feeling. Steve must have cleaned him off and he was just so happy to float in the afterglow.

Steve chuckled and gently tugged Sam's chin up so that he could kiss him, softly deepening the kiss when Sam opened his lips for him. 

They were home in each others' arms.

\--


End file.
